I gathered my things with as much dignity as I could muster, which was none. I shoved the books into my bag and slung it over my shoulder.
As I walked past Elara’s table, I dared to glance at her.
She wasn't looking at her textbook anymore. She was looking at me. Her expression was a mix of confusion and utter disdain. She looked like she was watching a car crash in slow motion.
"You are unbelievable," she whispered as I passed.
"I try," I muttered.
I saw the countdown timer above her head flicker.
179 Days, 18 Hours, 10 Minutes.
It didn't drop significantly, but the gray smog that had been strangling her aura was gone. The air around her was clear again. She was safe, even if she thought I was a moron.
Mission accomplished, I told myself. Reputation destroyed, girl saved. Standard operating procedure.
I pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped out into the cool night air of the hallway.
The door swung shut behind me, muting the sounds of the library. I leaned against the lockers, exhaling a long breath I didn't know I’d been holding. My hands were shaking again. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but the crash was always rough.
"That was... effective."
The voice came from the shadows down the hall.
I froze. I knew that voice. It was smooth, deep, and carried the kind of authority that made you want to check if your shirt was tucked in.
I turned my head.
Standing near the trophy case, illuminated by the red glow of the Exit sign, was Vice Principal Vance.
He was a tall man, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that looked too expensive for a public school salary. His glasses caught the red light, hiding his eyes behind opaque reflections. He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the library doors.
"Vice Principal," I said, straightening up. "I was just... leaving."
He turned slowly. He didn't walk; he glided. He stopped a few feet away from me. The air temperature dropped ten degrees.
"Mr. Ren," he said. "I've been reviewing your file. Grades slipping. Attendance spotty. And now, causing disturbances in the sanctuary of learning."
He took a step closer. I smelled it then—not cologne, but the scent of old dust and dry ink. The smell of a room that hadn't been opened in years.
"Disruption," he murmured, leaning down so his face was level with mine, "is a cancer in the educational body. It must be excised."
My Spirit Sight flared.
For a split second, the man’s face flickered. The skin seemed to ripple like paper in the wind. Behind the glasses, I didn't see eyes. I saw the endless, dark corridors of an empty school.
[Warning: High-Level Entity Detected]16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjZ8G1w2wvs
[Identity: The Administrator]16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTdVxcVAi7q
[Power Level: Unknown]
My heart slammed against my ribs. This wasn't a ghost. This was the Boss. The Architect of the pressure cooker.
"I'll do better, sir," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the alarm bells ringing in my brain. "I'm just... passionate about history."
Vance smiled. It was a thin, bloodless expression that didn't reach his eyes.
"See that you are," he said softly. "The Mock Exams are coming up, Mr. Ren. We expect perfection from our students. Those who fail to meet the standard... tend to disappear."
He straightened up and brushed invisible dust off his lapel. "Go home. The school is closing."
He turned and walked away into the darkness of the corridor. His shadow stretched out behind him, long and distorted, reaching toward me like clawed fingers.
I waited until he turned the corner before I let my knees buckle. I slid down the locker, sitting on the cold floor.
"Mock Exams," I whispered to the empty hall.
I pulled a crumpled syllabus out of my pocket.
Mock Exams: 3 Days.
I looked at my stats again. My Academic Qi was still basically zero. I had a Nokia phone, a bad reputation, and a supernatural Vice Principal who wanted to delete me from existence.
And I had to get an 'A' in Math, or the spiritual backlash from the exams would probably liquefy my brain.
"I need a tutor," I groaned, banging my head gently against the metal locker. "I need a miracle. Or a cheat sheet."
I closed my eyes.
179 days left.
At this rate, I wasn't going to make it to the weekend.
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMPVEJR84Lt
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Closing Note：I’m stuck on a plot point! Help me decide the Heroine's next move on our Discord: unplot_joshua.
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and then Add to home screen.